I remember as a child my imagination going wild trying to determine what the different shapes were in my dark bedroom. I wouldn’t allow my arm to drape over the edge of the bed because there might be something under there that would grab me. If I had forgotten to close my closet, the darkened shapes looked like sinister people waiting to attack. I had determined that the only safe place was under the covers facing the wall with my eyes tightly closed.
That’s me today. I’m a bit afraid of the dark. I know if I turn on the light all the scary things wouldn’t be scary anymore, but my response has been to turn my back and shut my eyes, hoping it will all just go away and leave me alone. I don’t want to discover there really are monsters lurking around.
The child in me needs a mom or a dad to come and turn on the light, sit on the edge of the bed and show me that my fears aren’t necessary. That all the things I imagine are just everyday things I’ve left out on the floor. That when the morning light comes I can sort through my mess and put things where they belong.
I know that’s what I need and I know that God is that mom or dad ready to comfort me and he’s also the morning light that will make things clear, but for right now I’m going to roll over, pull up the covers and shut my eyes tightly until morning.