Continued from PART 1, The Deeps, The Strip of Black: Training, PART 2, Something Larger than Numbers, PART 3, His Tongue Has Tasted Blood, and PART 4, The Call that Must Be Answered, The Challenge.
Sparring With the Unknown
The air is cool here in the foothills above Santa Barbara. The fear which pounced on me and wrestled my soul to the ground has retreated but still hounds me, and at any moment it could take me down again. I continue walking up the hill, one step at a time up the lonely road toward the stripe of black. When I get to the top of one hill, right before the road winds around another hill, I stop.
I have come tonight to wrestle fear. I have come to train for battle, for a battle with a lion whose name I do not know.
David spurs me on.
You, who killed the lion and the bear, you who struck he who defied the armies of the living God with a stone in the brow, David-you are as cocky as a colt-Will you walk with me tonight? Will you teach me your courage?
I keep walking. My soul, which was tight and closed with fear, begins to loosen and open up. I ask God to fill me with himself, with strength enough to face a pack of coyotes and not be killed. I ask for courage enough to stand upright before them.
David walks with me. He lends me his words.
I walk through the valley of shadow, of death. I will not fear. Your rod, your weapon, is strong, it comforts me.
Crack! A stick breaks and there is a rustle in the grass a few yards to my left. My chest seizes again. My shoulders tighten. Fear hits with a cold wave, like standing waist deep in the ocean at night. The waves crash over and disorient me. For a minute I lose my footing, but I am prepared for this. I knew this was coming. I take my stand again and brace myself.
“Come on! I dare you!” I say aloud. “Show yourself. I won’t give in. My King walks with me tonight. I will not fall to you, fear, not tonight.” My soul loosens and opens. It fills up again like a glass full of water, like a room full of light.
The fear strikes like a serpent again and again, but I am prepared. David’s words are taking root: Though I walk through the valley of death, I will not fear. Your rod and your staff comfort me. The effects of fear diminish each time, until I can walk past something rustling in the grass and though my flesh jumps, my soul stays calm, loose and open, still connected with God.
What is fear besides mistrust? What is it besides selfish self-preservation? My God tells me, “Be still and know that I am God,” tells me this even as I face the pack of coyotes; “Be still and know,” even as I stand in front of my enemy, that snarling, shadowed, sanguine-eyed lion. He tells me, “Be still,” even as I walk up this dark, lonely road.
There are some bales of hay next to me and I jump on top of one. I look around at the dark landscape, at the dry grass and the silhouettes of oak trees which break up the horizon. The air is cool, but not cold. In front of me is the stripe of black, behind me the glowing aura of the city. I look around and realize that everything I see is his and under the authority of his hand. Minutes pass. They feel like hours.
“Be still and know that I am God.” I close my eyes. I am perfectly still. The breeze brushes across my face. Creatures in the grass rustle below me but I have no fear. Barely even notice.
And in the wind itself I hear the whisper, “BE,” it says, just “BE…”
My jacket feels soft and warm against my shoulders. The night is comfortable and quiet. I take a deep breath.
Tonight’s training is complete.
