Fear
There have been many times in my life where fear crept in. I am not talking about a little nervousness before a meeting or the kind of concern that makes a person slow down in traffic. I am talking about fear that feels like it has hands. Fear that reaches into your chest and squeezes. Fear that whispers in the dark and tries to convince you that what God said is not going to stand. When I was a child, I was tormented by demons. I have been in car accidents and perils at sea. I have been carjacked and mugged at gunpoint. Those things are real. They leave a mark. But as frightening as those moments were, they were minor compared to the season when I experienced panic attacks. On June 1st, 1999, a strange man told me that my Dad had four and a half months to live. I was in Michigan. I will never forget that day. I flew to Texas to take care of Dad as he was dying of a cancerous brain tumor. Toward the end of his days, after much fasting and prayer, I woke up in sheer panic in the late...