phobiae

On occasion I remember the things that used to scare me as a kid. Sometimes, when it's intriguing enough, I research it, go back to it, find other people with the same experience. Now before your mind goes to typical (monsters under the bed) and grandiose (large vacuum cleaners), I'll clear it up now that none of the fears are even remotely rational. It's like being scared of a table. Not that the table is unstructurally sound and will fall on you, or that it was previously owned by druids, but just the table itself, through its engineering and design, frightens. (But that was just an example. I'm not really scared of tables. I'm down with them. Promise.)
Awhile back, I tried to research my childhood fear of the 'THX Deep Note' noise that plays before many movies (I say childhood--but sometimes it still freaks me out). In Google I used the search term "The 'THX' noise scares me", or "The 'THX' noise freaks me out" to very slim success, although I found websites of recovering THXphobes triumphantly posting a Youtube clip of the sound to show the world how far they've come with the disease. It was a little bit of closure for me, because although I didn't find exactly what I was looking for, I did find musings of other people about their own childhood fear of similar sounds. An example:

http://www.closinglogos.com/page/What+logo+scares+and%2For+annoys+you%3F?t=anon

Some of them make sense because of their resemblence of horror movies or the abrupt, loud sound. Almost a Pavlovian response. But I recall another fear I used to have, having nothing to do with sound, and no association with a positive or negative experience whatsoever. I can't remember how old I was when my mom signed up for her first cell phone. It was the ancient Motorola StarTac ( http://www.cellink.com.au/products/images/motorola_startac70.jpg ) with the old analog display. Today I noticed that my phone was, and will evermore be, roaming in a much bigger city than the one it was purchased in (sense, it makes none). I turned over in my mind the word 'roaming'. Roaming. Roaming. Roma.

Roma??

Ah. That was the message that would appear on the display of my mom's phone indicating when she was roaming from her network. And for some reason, it scared me. Why? Why 'Roma'? Perhaps it was the mystery of the phone's inner workings because of the unfriendly orange analog screen displaying the cryptic message indicative of a timeless Italian city. Was an ancient Roman centurion reincarnated in her phone, pledging his allegiance to a forgotten empire, channeled only when we found our way outside of the cell phone coverage areas? It doesn't make any sense. It attached itself so deeply in my mind that I think of it whenever I am roaming. To think if the programmers knew ahead of time the effect their power-saving choice of display would have on a young me. I wonder the same thing about whoever was in the bell tower at the Baylor Sciences building the day I sat in the parking lot while a random bell chimed. The thing is, it rang whenever I read a verse: John 12:23, "Jesus replied, 'The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.'"

Dingg.

I heard the random, unexpected chime. I thought, "The hour. The HOUR! That's why that bell rang!!!" I'm sure God was trying to make a point with me. In fact, I know He was. He showed me His knowledge of future events, as the providing, omniscient one, and punctuated an important verse to me in that season of my life with a neat little sign. He cares for His children. I want to know that, "in my knower" as I've heard some put it. Much of the time I feel like a spectator, watching God father His children, seeing His character and being able to testify, but never experiencing it on a personal end. I've seen my friends' real fathers father them and could tell you the character of a good father and in turn a divine Heavenly Father. Perhaps my own circumstance of growing up without a father has crippled my ability to see God in action in my life.

Ah...never thought I'd go in that direction. Lord, what are you doing?