Fear

In one of his stories, Robert Louis Stevenson tells of a boy who was shipwrecked on a tiny island just off the coast of Scotland. Through the mist which hung over the churning waters, he could see the faint outline of the mainland. Occasionally the haze would lift for a moment, and he would catch a glimpse of the neat farm houses and white barns laying just out of reach. And then, once again, the clouds would lower. The angry sea would hurl its mighty waves at the rocky shore on the tiny isle, isolating the frightened boy from any hope of help or home and he was filled with terror. 

But, in the morning, when the storm had passed and the rising sun shone brightly in the sky, the lad discovered the water which separated him from life and home was, at low tide, little more than ankle deep. He could actually wade across to safety. In the words of Stevenson, "The boy discovered terror was only make believe."

from a sermon by Dr. John Allan Lavender, "I Am The Resurrection And The Life"