Fear is a child that sneaks into our lives. Uncertainty in the form of a fleeting, shadowy, disheveled, mischievous child. A thing we loathe and can't resist. What has it come to visit on us? We don't know, but we can't not look for it, having seen it out of the corner of our eye, once, outside the kitchen, on the way to the sink to do the dishes. And then another day in the hallway, just inside the white painted door, we see its darkness go by.

We stay inside. We go away on business, or vacation, or we just leave, telling ourselves it will stay behind. We breathe false relief while we're away.

We stop. We stay inside and walk a smaller path. The one that keeps the shadow in the corner of our eye, just beyond the place where we will have to meet it, face to face, and shout, "Not here," and, "By the grace of God, go away." How much easier, how comforting, to let it hang around, let it keep its smallness encircling our lives.

Fear is a child that sneaks into our lives.