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Authors: Lauraine Snelling
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done all the prep to dress for church. His concession to fashion was khakis, a button-down shirt, extra long, and a needing-to-be-replaced sport coat. His loafers needed polishing.
A wet brush to the newly shorn hair, and he headed for the car, whistling as he went. The animals lined up to say goodbye, so he patted each head and clicked open the garage door as he strode to the SUV. It was Sunday morning, he had his strip done, the picture of Jonah under his arm, and if he had any sense he would make sure he did not go by the clinic on this, his day of rest.
“Good morning, Garret.” John Hanson, Bible Study leader extraordinaire, greeted all his class members as they quickly filled the room. It was time for them to move again to a larger location, but the only alternative now was the sanctuary, the problem being how to get people shuffled around and not have to change service times. For some odd reason, the suggestion of changing the later service from ten to ten-thirty caused ire in a lot of worshipers.
Right on the moment, with a military precision that indicated John’s background, he stood smiling at the front of the room. “Good morning and welcome to our study. Please turn to Acts, chapter five.” Instead of a lot of pages flipping, most of those attending took out their iPads or e-readers and waited expectantly.
“Let us pray.”
Garret, iPad in his lap, closed his eyes and exhaled all tension away.
“We are here, our Lord God, to learn of You, so that we can give You honor and glory to Your mighty name. Speak to us as You always do, into our hearts and minds, what we, each one of us, needs to hear today.”
The almost-an-hour disappeared, those who had been to the early service staying for a Q-and-A while the others hustled to the sanctuary. Those ushering had left earlier.
Garret bowed his head with the others for Pastor Hagen to pray before his sermon. “Lord, let the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable.…”
The eyes grabbed him.
As if she were standing right in front of him.
He flinched, fighting to hear the words of his pastor. “Lord God above, we give You all our thanks and praise. Amen.”
A lightning shaft of fear shot through him. Garret exhaled as if sucker punched, afraid to open his eyes. Nothing like this had ever happened to him before. Was he going totally berserk?
“We all suffer from fear.”
Garret snapped to attention. There went his pastor again, reading his mind.
“That is why God says repeatedly, “Fear not!” He paused, giving his congregation time to shake their heads. “I know what you’re thinking. First, some of you are a bit smug as you tell yourself that you are not afraid of anything. You are so proud that you are not afraid.”
Some people began to squirm, Garret one of them.
“I have news for you, two things that I know you will not consider good news.” Again a pause. The man was a master at timing. His voice dropped. “God loves you so much that He will show you what fear is so you can be healed.”
And the second, surely the second is easier. Garret leaned forward. Surely this could not be so. He was afraid of a woman. A woman he had only just met, who had done nothing to evoke his fear. She was still just a woman.
Admit it, women have always frightened you, some more than others.
Garret slammed the door on that line of thinking and pasted a sort-of smile on his face. He locked his arms over his chest and stared at one of the stained-glass windows. The Shepherd’s window. Not a good choice.
He knew he missed a bunch of words; he hoped all the ones that would eat into his protective shield.
“And the second: some of us are so fear-ridden that we are often unable to function. Anxiety attacks, panic, physical ailments, fear causes an adrenaline rush every time, and after a while your body can’t do the fight-or-flight any longer and it begins to break down. All of us fall into one camp or the other, so God says fear
A wet brush to the newly shorn hair, and he headed for the car, whistling as he went. The animals lined up to say goodbye, so he patted each head and clicked open the garage door as he strode to the SUV. It was Sunday morning, he had his strip done, the picture of Jonah under his arm, and if he had any sense he would make sure he did not go by the clinic on this, his day of rest.
“Good morning, Garret.” John Hanson, Bible Study leader extraordinaire, greeted all his class members as they quickly filled the room. It was time for them to move again to a larger location, but the only alternative now was the sanctuary, the problem being how to get people shuffled around and not have to change service times. For some odd reason, the suggestion of changing the later service from ten to ten-thirty caused ire in a lot of worshipers.
Right on the moment, with a military precision that indicated John’s background, he stood smiling at the front of the room. “Good morning and welcome to our study. Please turn to Acts, chapter five.” Instead of a lot of pages flipping, most of those attending took out their iPads or e-readers and waited expectantly.
“Let us pray.”
Garret, iPad in his lap, closed his eyes and exhaled all tension away.
“We are here, our Lord God, to learn of You, so that we can give You honor and glory to Your mighty name. Speak to us as You always do, into our hearts and minds, what we, each one of us, needs to hear today.”
The almost-an-hour disappeared, those who had been to the early service staying for a Q-and-A while the others hustled to the sanctuary. Those ushering had left earlier.
Garret bowed his head with the others for Pastor Hagen to pray before his sermon. “Lord, let the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable.…”
The eyes grabbed him.
As if she were standing right in front of him.
He flinched, fighting to hear the words of his pastor. “Lord God above, we give You all our thanks and praise. Amen.”
A lightning shaft of fear shot through him. Garret exhaled as if sucker punched, afraid to open his eyes. Nothing like this had ever happened to him before. Was he going totally berserk?
“We all suffer from fear.”
Garret snapped to attention. There went his pastor again, reading his mind.
“That is why God says repeatedly, “Fear not!” He paused, giving his congregation time to shake their heads. “I know what you’re thinking. First, some of you are a bit smug as you tell yourself that you are not afraid of anything. You are so proud that you are not afraid.”
Some people began to squirm, Garret one of them.
“I have news for you, two things that I know you will not consider good news.” Again a pause. The man was a master at timing. His voice dropped. “God loves you so much that He will show you what fear is so you can be healed.”
And the second, surely the second is easier. Garret leaned forward. Surely this could not be so. He was afraid of a woman. A woman he had only just met, who had done nothing to evoke his fear. She was still just a woman.
Admit it, women have always frightened you, some more than others.
Garret slammed the door on that line of thinking and pasted a sort-of smile on his face. He locked his arms over his chest and stared at one of the stained-glass windows. The Shepherd’s window. Not a good choice.
He knew he missed a bunch of words; he hoped all the ones that would eat into his protective shield.
“And the second: some of us are so fear-ridden that we are often unable to function. Anxiety attacks, panic, physical ailments, fear causes an adrenaline rush every time, and after a while your body can’t do the fight-or-flight any longer and it begins to break down. All of us fall into one camp or the other, so God says fear
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