I was instantly wide awake and said, "Come on Gavin. Get in the bed with me." (Now that alone is a unique event. Years ago I may have not even heard him!) After crawling into bed beside me Gavin said, "There is a monster outside my window." We then dialogued about said monster until he fell back asleep. An hour or so later, I returned him to his own bed where he remained (as he usually does) the remainder of the night. The next day, we talked about the event and how real it actually was for him.
As I reflected on that event over the next day or so, I was taken back to my own childhood. I recall quite often at a very early age lying in my bed deathly afraid of "whatever" but also too afraid to go see my own father and tell him I was "scared." (The reasons for that are varied and not the purpose of this entry.) As I thought about that event, I was suddenly aware that I was smiling. Riding alone in my car . . . and smiling. I was smiling because Gavin felt okay coming to me in the middle of the night to tell me he was "scared."
For millennia Christians have referred to God as "Father," but do we feel the freedom to go to him and say "Daddy, I'm scared."
This is the exact idea in Romans 8 Paul had when he wrote that the Spirit allows us to move forward in spite of fear and say Abba, Father. Scholars quickly recognize that the word "Abba" was an Aramaic word in that day with no real English equivalent. It was a term of endearment best deemed, "Daddy.," Paul is saying that when we are afraid, we can go to our heavenly father and say "Daddy, I'm scared."
What are you facing? What is your biggest fear at this moment. What monsters wake you in the middle of the night? What drives you to fear? Can you . . . do you . . . go to your loving heavenly Father (and all that is good about that word and nothing that is bad about it) and say "Daddy, I'm scared."
Right now . . . I could sure use that. I am sure many of you could as well.