The face of fear, of agony, has new features for me.  Tears stream down her face as she recounts confusion, treachery, manipulation, physical bondage, unwanted touching. . .  Her story tumbles out of her mouth like a river, eager to be released from the dam of shame.  After being abandoned by her parents as a child, they called her ‘home,’ only to enslave her.

But physically, now, she is free.  When she told us her story, it ended with joy, though sadness was still etched on her brow.  Most of her decisions in life had been driven by fear.  Fear brought her to that place.  It is easy to sympathize without feeling any connection to her plight or truly understand how it feels to be in bondage.  Those slaves to fear.  Those people, over there.  Not here.  Not me.  

But we were all born slaves – slaves to fear, in bondage to self-worship and self-glorification.

A couple days ago, over breakfast, I read the story of Zechariah to my children from The Story Bible.  Words of his prophecy resonated in my mind.  Perhaps because I recently returned from a trip to India and heard stories of persecution and rejection – often the result of choosing a life of Faith – these words spoke to my reality.

Then we, being saved, might serve Him without fear.

We were saved from fear!  In this season of The Coming, we remember – we must remember – that we live in the time when the prophecy has been fulfilled. “That we, being delivered from the hand of our enemies, might serve Him without fear, in holiness and righteousness before Him all our days.” (Luke 1:74,75)  We were delivered so we can serve Him fearlessly.

This is the reason for His coming.

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What was I doing in India?  Read more here.

Fear seems to be a recurring theme in life – and on the blog.  Here are some other related posts:

• Transform your parenting perspective – freedom to have a different parenting perspective
• Parenting by Fear OR Spargelzeit and baby’s first food – Trier, Germany – fearing travel with baby.  What will we feed the baby?
• A letter to my small children – Written by my mom in 1986 before we moved to a country in civil war.