AM I FEAR’S CAPTIVE, OR CHRIST’S?

​A couple days ago when Karen and i arrived in Spain for a visit with our family, we all went out for tapas.  At the end of our meal, i went to the restroom and got locked inside when the door handle became dislodged from the deadbolt.  Although it was a small space, with just enough room for a toilet and a sink, it wasn’t tiny.  Yet i panicked and immediately began pounding on the door.  i knew i needed to pray, but i struggled to pray or even think.  Had i been thinking logically, i would have reached into my pocket, pulled out my phone, and called my wife or son to reach out to the restaurant manager for help.  But instead i just started screaming. 

​Eventually an employee came, but even though i couldn’t see her i realized that she was clueless about what to do because the door was dead-bolted shut, and from the inside at least, there was no obvious way to unlock or dismantle it.  So i realized that i had to get myself out, and i began wiggling the handle until it somehow reengaged with the dead bolt and i was able to unlock and open the door.
 
i’d only been locked inside for a few minutes, but what relief i felt!  Yet i was also troubled that my claustrophobia was worse than i had imagined.  i thought it was only triggered when someone or something pinned down my arms or legs, such as would happen with a straightjacket.  But now i know it can be triggered by any small space in which i’m locked inside, even when my hands and feet are free and i’m able to breathe.
 
If there were any doubts about that, it was confirmed by the tiny elevators we use at our family’s apartment to go between the ground and third floors.  Every time i’ve gotten into either of them, i felt a very strong fear that they might break down or i might not know how to open their doors and would become trapped inside.  So i’ve been confessing my fear to God and asking Him to deliver me from it.  i suspect there’s a stronghold of control involved, so i’ve been praying about that as well.  Perhaps what happened at the restaurant is God’s answer to my many prayers for others, that they would be freed from a similar stronghold, even though they aren’t claustrophobic like i am.  Perhaps God wants to free me from control, in the course of freeing them.
 
“I do,” He said just now, as i was writing this.
 
In the meantime, this episode has helped me appreciate another dimension of what Jesus suffered on the cross.  i didn’t fully appreciate before that His hands and feet were pinned down, and how that might have stricken His flesh with panic, as it definitely would have stricken me.  Now i realize that it wasn’t just the searing pain and shortness of breath that was unbearable for Jesus, but also His inability to move.  i’ve read about that before, but it never sunk in until now.
 
Oh, how severely Jesus was stricken to set me free!  And how wrong it is for me to act like fear’s captive, when Jesus set me free!  Jesus, when You set me free, i became free indeed!  Help me truly believe that in the depths of my soul, and help me not partner with any spirit that conspires to rob me of the freedom You purchased for me at such a horrendous cost.  i do believe, Jesus!  Help me in my unbelief!