Fear

 I was brushing my teeth last night when I heard a rustling coming from the bathroom fan.

Unsure of what I was hearing, I looked up and into the fan.

And there I saw it:

A bat.

Or at least I think it was a bat.

I was so freaked out that I immediately left the bathroom,

Toothbrush still in mouth.

I.

Am.

Scared.

Of.

Bats.

All I could think was that the bat was going to slip through one of the slits in the bathroom fan,

Escape the bathroom and get into the house,

And then randomly fly at my head

When I least expected it--

Like happened a few years ago.

 

It’s the element of surprise that I’m afraid of.

 

It’s not knowing when a bat is going to fly at my head.

It’s not knowing when someone is going to cross the yellow line.

It’s not knowing when someone is going to die.

It’s not knowing when a gunman is going to appear in a crowd,

Or at a school,

Or a church,

Or a corner convenience store,

And senselessly murder innocent victims,

Including children.

 

I fell asleep crying last night,

The bathroom door closed,

Light and glasses on,

Annie lying beside me,

Full of irrational fear of bats,

Full of rational fear of guns,

Praying “We don’t know how to pray here,

Stay here,

All we can hope is that You’re here…”

Even in the midst of anger and fear.

Amen.