“She’s so easy to take care of,” said one of my helpers, yesterday afternoon, as she was leaving my home.

“Yes, such a privilege to be with her,” said another. “I love coming here.”

When the door closed behind them, I stormed. Out of the blue came the awareness that they would be around until my death. Scenarios of being propped up in bed, suffocating, perspiring, nauseous flipped by in rapid succession. I was going to lose my life. It was just a matter of time. I was under attack. Beast was around.

More fears wearing spiked boots trounced my spirit. Nastiness bound my taste—terror minced my innards—hard breathing pumped my chest as I sat on the stool by the kitchen window. It never occurred to me to call for help, so bound was I by the unthinkable.

Then I checked my watch. Mary would be expecting my call at our usual time. Taking care of business, carrying recyclables to my neighbor’s, revising blogs, and attending the CPA phone meeting filled the remainder of the day. Still my spirit smarted. I was under siege.

The night was rough; six times I climbed out of bed. With dawn must come release.

It did. Corrected was Beast’s half-truth: I would not lose my life, only my body. Life’s fullness animates my spirit—that remains for all eternity. That said, sunshine filled the crannies of my being and warmed me into another day of vibrant living, within limits.

With God’s care and protection, I survived Beast’s attack, until its return with—more opportunity for spiritual growth.