I woke with a start, heart pounding. The moonlight lit the mountain peaks outside my cabin window, and my dog snuggled in against my knee. All seemed calm, except for my racing heart.

Wait a second!

I don’t have a dog.

What sort of creature seeks warmth? My mind raced through a catalogue of Alaska animals: otter? wolverine? marmot? No, that doesn’t work. . .I’m not in Alaska. I’m in California: snake? Snake!

My heart raced faster. Could I leap off the bed fast enough to escape a life-threatening bite? I prayed for deliverance and woke up–again–heart pounding harder, no heat-seeking reptiles, but now fully awake.

The cabin, the snake, the danger were a dream. The fear was real, though. It gripped my mind, shocked my heart, and strained every sense to defeat me.

We live in a fear-filled world, right? Baby lo-jacks, elbow pads, and helicopter parents. Lawyers and…