I certainly found your comments interesting about my last post on fear.  (And I always appreciate your comments!)  When I type a post, I never think about what comments I might get.  So it's always a surprise to see what stands out enough for someone to comment on.  I'm glad to know I'm not the only one who struggles with the "fear" issue.  I type this on the first of a 6 night work week for my dh - that translates to 6 nights sleeping by myself.  Sigh.  Well, it's really 3 and 3, with one night home in between, but still. 

I often think of my mom when I go to bed on those nights my dh is at work.  I've said before that my dad was Asst. Fire Chief for years, from before I was born until I was in Jr. High.  He was gone every other night except Thurs, for all those years (minus a few vacation weeks in summer).  That's a lot of nights for my mom to be home alone, with a family of young girls.  On a busy street, in a busy city, where crime eventually visited our home on several occasions.  My mom was a farm girl from Arkansas.  I've never asked her how she felt about my dad taking on that schedule.  And, like us, the money wasn't even that good, really.  Night shift ought to be paid 2 or 3 times more than day shift, in my opinion!  (There should be additional pay to cover therapy for the wife - just kidding!)  I certainly know how I felt when my dh began working this night thing.  I've alreadly blogged enough about that.  I'm not sure I could handle the 15 years or so that my mom endured it.

It's interesting how much comes to mind when I type.  I was thinking how brave my dad was, to work in such a dangerous field.  But you know?  My mom was brave as well.  There have been many times, since my dad died, that my sisters and I have observed my mother's bravery.  Perhaps that bravery came from being on her own so much, for so long.  Whoa.  Now, there's a lesson I can take from this.  That's my word for today - brave.

Brave is defined (according to Oxford) as "able to face and endure danger or pain."  It doesn't say "imagined" danger or pain.  So, I only need to be brave when there is actual danger or pain.  When I "imagine" danger - I can just go ahead and freak out (I often do).  Not really.  Well ...

No, I need to be brave.  I've done it before, I can do it again.  How I wish I could harness all the times I've been brave and store it somewhere.  Take some out when I need it.  There must be a Tupperware for such storage.  

Ever heard of that suggestion to help kids not be afraid to go to bed?  You take a spray bottle full of water and tell them it's magic water that will scare away the monsters in their room.  You spray it around and the kid is supposed to believe there's nothing more to fear.  I've NEVER bought into such nonsense.  What do I tell my kids?  Pray ... God is bigger than anything that can scare them.  God is always, ALWAYS with them.  Pray for God to help you not be afraid.  That's good advice that I need to apply to myself.

Actually, the only time I feel fear now is that split second between turning off the bathroom light and hopping into bed.  I've started turning on my flashlight beforehand.  Scaring away the monsters, I suppose.  For goodness sake, I'm a grown (well-grown) woman - just get in bed, read my Bible and go to sleep!  After I pray, of course, and then I feel a little brave.

Summary:  Draw strength from my brave mom, pray that God will help me be brave, be filled by the Scriptures and keep the batteries fresh in my flashlight.  An extra blanket helps, too. 

Happy dreams!