Becky Crenshaw

This morning, my eyes opened wide at 3am to an unfamiliar tapping.  Our window air unit, arguably on its last leg, was working hard to spit out an UNO card or a possibly granola wrapper. No telling what was in there with 3 little boys in the house.  But nevertheless, our tapping air unit broke the silence of my quiet slumber.

I crawled out of from my warm down feathers and turned our aggravated air unit to its off setting.

Silence.

Without our {rather tacky-looking} window unit gushing air at high-speed, the house was extra quiet.  I could hear Brent’s every snore, I mean breath, and the ticking of his wrist watch on the nightstand.  The evening winner of “musical beds” was laying to my left, little Luke, and he was breathing heavy, as well.  I heard a dog barking in a neighbor’s yard and our heat kicking on downstairs.

After thirty restless minutes, I finally fell asleep.

But there was a day in my life, many days actually, that I would NOT have gone back to sleep.  My mind would have taken each of those noises and picked them apart.  Creating plots for each one.

The noise in the vent may not have been in the vent at all, maybe it was someone trying to get into the window.  Luke may have gotten in bed with me because he was getting the stomach bug. The dog was probably barking at a burglar trying to jump the fence. The heating unit downstairs may have been someone opening the door, and Brent’s wristwatch might have been a ticking bomb.  (Listen, this girl has one vivid imagination).  In our first year’s of marriage, there is no telling how many times I asked Brent to walk through the house in the middle of the night.

And Lord help us all if Brent had to go out-of-town.  Maybe I would get three hours of unrestful sleep.  With him gone, I left EVERY light in the house on and the TV blaring (making the thieves think I was watching QVC all night, I suppose).  And don’t laugh, but I would even recruit my 90-year-old grandmother to come spend the night with me — my fierce protector.  A burglar wouldn’t dare hurt an old lady!

But last night, as I lay in bed at 3am, listening to every bump in the night, I was not afraid.

After years of hand wringing fear, I recognized that I was free from this bondage…my bondage to the Boogie Man.

I tried to recall a definitive “moment” the chains came off, but there was not a single moment.  But instead a compilation of moments…prayers and practice and plenty of opportunities to choose faith over fear.

I remember one time, in particular, Brent was out-of-town with Campus Crusade, Ethan was a baby and Grant was three-years-old.  Mamaw couldn’t come for a sleepover and I was left to my own imagination.  For two days.

But this time, I was different.  My spirit had grown weary of the boogie man shuffle.  I was ticked and determined to win this go ’round.  I could see this battle as personal and  100%  spiritual.  Second Corinthians tells us, “we do not wage war as the world.  We have divine power to demolish strongholds and arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God.  [That I can] take captive every thought and make it obedient to Christ.” (2 Cor. 10:3-5)

The battle was already won, I just had to claim the victory in faith.

So, as if Brent were home, I turned off all of the  lamps and televisions and crawled in my empty bed.  I prayed the blood of Christ and a big ol’ thorny hedge of protection around my house.  I bound the devil in Jesus Name and opened my Bible to Psalm 91.  And set it atop Brent’s pillow.  And slept with it open beside of me.  All night long.

{Oh, yes I did.}

And I slept like a baby.

Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.  I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my God in whom I trust.”  Surely he will save you from the fowler’s snare and from the deadly pestilence.  He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.  You will not fear the terror of night nor the arrow that flies by day, nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness, nor the plague that destroys at midday.  If you say, “The Lord is my refuge,” and you make the Most Hight your dwelling no harm will overtake you, no disaster will come near your tent.  For He will command His angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways; they will lift you up in their hands so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.  “Because he loves me,” says the Lord, “I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.  He will call on me, and I will answer him.  I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him.  With long life I will satisfy him and show him my salvation. Psalm 91

I opened this beside of me as a tangible reminder of my truest protection.