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Topic: ARTIFICIAL (08/11/16)
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TITLE: Grandma's Wooden Leg | Previous Challenge Entry
By Stanley McMahon
08/17/16 -
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Fear was my early companion in life. I didn't realise how early until I spoke to an uncle at a recent family funeral. I asked him about my maternal grandmother. My only abiding memory of her was when I saw her coming down the stairs with her wooden leg. The fact that the stairs were also wooden, and bereft of carpet, intensified the impact. To a child it was a terrifying scene, and my family was not one that was given to allaying fears or displaying awkward emotions like compassion, so I was left to cope with it.
I asked my uncle when she had died, and his reply meant that my memory of my grandmother dated back to when I was two years old. I didn't even think I could remember back that far. But there it was. Fear.
I grew up with it by my side and understood it to be a normal experience of childhood. Whether it was the clenched fist of my father, close to my face, or the threatening banging of my paternal grandfather’s walking stick on the ceiling; although I was untouched physically by these things, my early companion convinced me of their terror and taught me to submit to them.
But the Holy Spirit speaks freedom and boldness to my soul. He tells me to be strengthened by the power of God and fortified by the Word of God. I have learned to allow the Lord to minister deep healing to my soul and to destroy the power of my early impressions. My grandmother didn't mean to frighten me. She was using the only available prosthetics at the time. But fear took the opportunity and I having been dealing with it since.
Nevertheless, the Lord has done much work in me over the years and I rejoice in His power. Goodness and mercy are now my companions and fear, although it still comes snapping at my heels, is beaten back by His rod and staff. Or, if am really honest, it’s more like fear desiring to take a chunk out of my leg, and I am momentarily stunned by its audacity and reality. More stripping back of layers and deeper healing will take place throughout the remainder of my life, but the markers are firmly in place and the Holy Spirit will see to it that I am presented at the Throne of Grace, more as a battle-scarred soldier than numbered with the walking wounded.
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