For some at their evening all-night vigil lift up their hands in prayer, being immaterial and stripped of all care. Others stand at that time chanting psalms. Others immerse themselves in the thought of death, hoping thus to obtain contrition. Yet God accepts and values the offerings of each according to their intention and power. But the man who spends his time in more solitary places should make every effort to avoid being overcome by that offspring of vainglory, that daughter of unbelief, cowardice.
Fear is a loss of assurance.
And this is natural. For the Lord rightly forsakes the proud that the rest of us may learn not to be puffed up. But if you yield only a little to such weakness, then this childish and ridiculous infirmity will grow old with you. As you go on your way, arm yourself with prayer. When you reach the place, stretch out your hands.