Bat Terror

Our small children had been constantly bickering all day, and I was at my wits end. I had tried absolutely everything I could think of and the fighting only increased. When my husband arrived home, I put him in charge of the little feisty people so I could prepare dinner. He tried lecturing, making them apologize to each other, and I’m not sure what other tactics. Finally, from my kitchen refuge I heard silence. My curiosity led me into the living room where my husband sat opposite of two very quiet, very uncomfortable children seated on the sofa, awkwardly holding hands. Their bodies were as far apart as physically possible and their disdain for each other was exploding from their faces.

“It’s your turn, Edie,” my husband said.

“Do I have to?”

The fatherly glare bore a hole into her brain where she created a compliment that she delivered in a hostile voice.

Daughter and husband then turned their gaze to Adam, who gave a comical compliment that cracked the exterior of disdain his sister had been displaying for him all day. Soon everyone was giggling, and the truce-making exercise turned into pure fun.

Many years later, my husband and I made our way across a parking lot to meet Edie’s future in-law clan. As was our custom, we walked hand in hand. Introductions were made and everyone’s name flew into my ears and leaked out the other side before I could add them to my memory. My future son-in-law’s grandfather sat across the table and said, “You know, when I saw you two walking across the parking lot holding hands, I knew my grandson had made a good choice for a wife.” He was a wise man.

Holding hands is a powerful channel of positive emotion. Pavel Goldstein, PhD, and David Linden, PhD, have researched the physical and emotional aspects of handholding. During times of physical and emotional pain, the act of holding someone’s hand can “activate pain-killing mechanisms in the brain,” which can lessen the impact of pain. Pain is both physical and emotional; that’s why many people cry when in pain. The physical touch of a loved one can mitigate that pain to a degree, but only if we don’t pull away.

Little ones often walk while holding onto their mama’s hand for confidence and mothers hold their little one’s hand for security. Like many of you, I often held my mother’s hand when we were out and about. I was extremely shy, and the feel of my mother’s hand brought me a lot of assurance.

I’m not sure how it happened one year that a two-day trip away from the farm was planned. The first day was spent at the St. Louis Zoo. The last day of our two-day vacation was spent touring Abe Lincoln sites in Springfield, Illinois: his home with the rooms all roped off and a small cluster of cabins where he supposedly grew up. The tour guide was taking small groups of people through one special cabin, which looked very dark inside. While waiting for our turn to go inside, my older brother sauntered over to me and informed me that there were bats inside that cabin that would swoop down on my head and pull out some of my hair.

I didn’t know to check his credibility. I didn’t remember that he had told my sister our parents were simply renting her, and she would be shipped to Africa when they tired of her. Brenda had me help her dig through the box of important papers to find her birth certificate. I couldn’t read, but I examined each paper as if I could; I didn’t want my sister shipped to Africa even though she was bossy.

The bat warning was perfectly timed. Before I had time to process what he said, my mother took me by the hand and began walking towards the cabin. It was our turn to enter that dark door of horror. True terror flooded over me and I refused to move, tears streaming down my face. Mom stopped and looked at me, telling me there was nothing to fear; my dad looked at my mom and asked what was wrong with me.

I was determined not to enter the doors of that cabin and protested frantically, so my sweet mother sat outside with me while the rest of the family finished the cabin tour, my brother grinning the entire time.

Submitting to fear is still a temptation today, but Isaiah 41:13 says, “For I am the LORD your God who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you.”

Sometimes fear creeps in and controls my actions and reactions before I realize, but then I remember Who has my right hand, leading me through life. Fear is always mingled in darkness and the unknown; it can be suffocating and blinding. When my worst nightmares come true, and some have, my God tightens His grip on my hand and tells me not to fear. I just need to ignore the frightening scenarios of attacking bats and focus on His hand holding mine.