another post from the village

From October 9:

So, I’m not actually scared of the dark. Maybe I was as a kid, but I don’t honestly remember. But when it’s pitch black outside (like the can’t-see-your-hand-in-front-of-your-face kind of dark) and all you can hear are strange night sounds (pops, groans, chirps, etc) it’s easy for me to start letting my imagination run away with me.

Last night I tossed and turned for an hour or more having nightmarish thoughts of catastrophes happening. Partly, it might be the malaria medicine I take weekly (nasty, nasty stuff, known for insomnia (yep), vivid dreams (yep) and other mental side effects. But even more than that, I think it’s Satan’s attacks on me. He knows I’m a bit vulnerable when it comes to the health and safety of my kids and that I can get to worrying overmuch. So that’s where he attacks, strong and repeatedly.

Last night’s theme was landslides and our house sliding off the mountain. Don’t laugh too hard! Our village is surrounded with extremely steep mountains, where no matter where you look there are huge gashes where the land has collapsed and slid sometimes hundreds of feet. Last night I was envisioning the weight of our water tank and house collapsing the edge of the ridge that’s just a couple meters away from the back of our house. I start panicking, wondering how I’m going to wake up my deeply sleeping husband, and get all the kids awake and out of their mosquito nets and out of the house before it slides down the cliff!

Other variations I’ve had are a strong earthquake and the house is breaking apart, or a fire starting downstairs where we have lots of flammable, explosive materials like gas bottles and petrol. And my panicking always revolves around how to get all the kids to safety in time. Or, a choking or croup or something with the kids that happens at night, when no one is on the radio, and no helicopter could come to get us to help. So I spent many sleepless nights the first few weeks when Julianne was sick, listening to her wheezy breathing and wondering what I could do if she stopped breathing, or it got even more difficult for her.

Last night, as I was starting to hit panic mode, I just started praying, and trying to remember every Bible verse I know about God being with us, and being in control, and being our help. And I definitely felt God’s peace. But I know this isn’t over. I’m sure in another night or two, or in a week, or maybe a month from now, I’m going to go thru the same thing all over again.