Susan LaffertyFrom a young age, I heard about Jesus and His love. Sang songs about Him. Listened as my parents read Bible stories. Our family prayed often. I was loved and cared for.
And yet.
And yet I was lost. Fearful. Felt the darkness. Something wasn’t right. And I knew it. “Do not lie” seemed to compel me toward that very thing. Lying.
My friend hesitates. Uncomfortable when I speak of “the fear of the Lord.” And pray it for our children.
Through the years, from their youngest days, this has been my prayer. That they may walk in the fear of the Lord. Know His wisdom. Recognize His holiness.
But there are too many things to fear in our world today. We don’t need to make God one more thing to fear. Right? I think that’s the unspoken piece of this friend’s response.
But Jesus talks about fear. The wrong kind and the right kind.
During those first years in Karachi, I struggled to find a place of morning quiet. With the Lord.
We were navigating the muddle of culture shock and power breakdowns. Learning a language with completely new sounds and an unfamiliar alphabet.
Trying to establish a rhythm for preparing clean water to drink. For getting food on the table. Daily.
And figuring out how to parent our children. I gave birth to our first child at the age of 33. And soon experienced what I now refer to as “mother shock.”
