She sits just inside Daughter’s room. The baby-gate at the room’s entrance blocks her from joining me here at my computer. I heard her tip-toe from her bed to the doorway…quietly…ever so quietly.
The only noise she makes is a soft whine…not high pitched, but rather low in her throat…almost like a med to high pitched grunt.
It’s a plea to join me. A signal that all is not well in her world. She’s afraid.
A quick check of the radar reveals storms to our West. She doesn’t like storms…can tell they are coming when they are still an hour away.
She weighs about 8 pounds, a little black and tan Dachshund, and the biggest things about her are her attitude and her bark. But, when she’s scared, fear becomes the biggest thing – changing her from happy-go-lucky Abbie Girl to a quaking lump of fir that seeks a hole to crawl into.
She loses all she was and becomes something to be pitied.
Is it not the same with us?
We fear what we do not understand and cannot control.
The booms and pows in life cause us to tremble and quake. We live from noise to noise afraid to relax.
Like a child afraid of the next firecracker POP, we cover our ears and turn from what we fear most.
I can’t explain to Abbie that the thunder she hears and the tension she feels in the air are nothing she needs to be concerned about. All I can do is comfort her and calm her and wait for the storm to pass.
Fear is powerful. So is knowledge.
What would happen if we face our fears head on?