Like most kids growing up, I was afraid of the dark. But I wasn’t just afraid of the dark, I was afraid of going upstairs…by myself…into a dark room. Well, doesn’t that sound scary? In hindsight, not so much. From my parents’ perspective, this was not something to be feared. They would tell me this often, but that didn’t mean this struggle of mine would just disappear.

As a kid, reason doesn’t always trump emotion. I needed to be listened to so I knew my parents understood what made me scared. I needed continual reassurance. I needed repeated experiences of protection in the middle of my fears to heed the wisdom to not be afraid.

One thing that aided my growing trust and helped eliminate this fear, without me fully realizing it along the way, was the routine of my dad praying over me at my bedside. Every night for most of my childhood (until I stayed up later than he would), my dad would be there. 

The nights when I was still awake in bed, we would chat for a few minutes, laugh together, and make up fun phrases that would eventually evolve into a long goodnight mantra. Some nights I would already be asleep and he would faithfully come and pray over me. Other nights I would hear him coming and would pretend I was sleeping to get a glimpse of what my dad would do when he thought I wasn’t looking. He would pray. For a long time too. I remember feeling loved, cherished, delighted-in, and not forgotten. 

I needed these experiences of my dad on bended knee with folded hands and closed eyes lifting me up in prayer.

The consistency of this experience, night after night, ingrained in me that my father was with me. And the nights when I was scared, he would lovingly tell me, “do not be afraid, you are not alone.” 

And while some have never had this experience with an earthly Father, we all get to experience this from our Heavenly Father. Even though we grow up, one of our roles in relation to God is that of a child. As adults, we begin to judge what fears are reasonable and what fears are not, shutting them down before we are able to name them. But God wants to be with you in your fears to give you continual experiences of love and protection. He wants us to “consider the lilies,” how they sway and grow, bask in the sun, and are taken care of in lavish adornment. So as you hear the words below from your Father, “do not be anxious,” consider His heart for you. He wants to listen. You need His reassurance. Begin to experience His tender love in your places of fear.