Being Afraid

I arrived last evening at Amagansett out east on the Island. I will be supplying for Saint Thomas Chapel here this weekend. It is a pretty village, an old and quaint little chapel (inasmuch as I could see it at dusk last night) and a comfortable cottage behind it.

I slept uneasy last night, with vague dreams about the downsides of me as a person. It was weird. Then I woke early this morning with a feeling of fear – not of anything in particular, but just of fear. Prayer begins to help. The beauty of this morning begins to help. Going out in a moment to search for strong black coffee will help.

But more importantly, as this feeling is unusual for me, it moves me to pray for the many around the globe who live with real fear, and real reason to fear, day and night all their days. Dear God, embrace them all – mothers and children, soldiers who don’t want to be soldiers, those in pain, all who fear. I have no reason to be afraid in the shadow of what these brothers and sisters of mine suffer today. Abba, be God for them, present, warm, strong, sufficient in every need.

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