God is good. Maybe you haven't noticed lately, but I certainly have. That statement seems to fit into the triteness catagory along with "prayer is powerful," and "God's angels are surrounding you," and other such--but darn it, when it comes down to it, every one of those statements (that we all hear all to often from well meaning relations) is completely true.
Short history: for the last week or two, I've been having night terrors. To call them nightmares is far too tame. Night terrors, in which I spend a few hours when I first sleep; unsure of my consciousness and in terrible, wrenching fear; unsure of whether I'm dreaming or if there are spirits of evil physically manifesting around me; afraid to close my eyes yet afraid to keep them open--night terrors that have left anxiety and fear seeping into my waking hours. I've been too afraid to even sleep alone, they've been so horrific. But I've had my sister and my two roommates available for me to run to, and the trustest folk around me have started praying. My dear Josiah called me on Sunday night, a few moments after he left my house, and talked to me for 15 straight minutes, telling me that I belong to a God who is far greater than any evil, and that I am NOT alone by any means.
Last night, after a scrumptious dinner with Laura C. (that cheesecake...the blackberries...zomg...) and then a stop by the Jer/Cait/Cael house, I decided that even though I was fighting the fear, I was still admitting that it had some power, because I wouldn't sleep alone in my own room. I was feeling pretty solid yesterday, because I had an hour-long chat with Andrew on Facebook (and he sounded... like himself. Just like himself. Not Andrew in a warzone, or Andrew in the stages of grief, or Andrew who has lost so many friends. We laughed and teased and flirted and I flatly fell in love with him all over again).
When I went to my room, before I even put my purse down, I prayed for blessing for the house, claiming it in Christ's name. Before I went to bed (before I even wrote my nightly letter), I read the boldest verses I could find, and when I found Psalm 4:8, I wrote it down in big preschooler letters and taped it above where I would rest my head to sleep--
"I will both lie down in peace, and sleep; for You alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety."
And I slept well. More than well--I spent all night feeling awake (just as I do during the night terrors)-- but instead of darkness and evil swarming around me, I opened my eyes and saw light, and people; faces of creatures I knew were angels. For some reason, each angel was leaning over me, and offering me a shining platter.
So, God is good. Prayer is powerful. His angels are surrounding me.
And I'm not afraid.