“Okay sugars, get settled down and crawl underneath the covers. It’s time to go to sleep.” Immediately the giggling stopped and her body language changed as she looked up at me and said, “But its dark outside. I don’t like the dark.”
Hearing the worry and fear in her voice, I pulled the covers up and underneath her tiny chin, only to notice it start to quiver. Unable to find the right words, I try to convince her that everything will be okay. I remind her that Daddy and I are here, as well as Jesus, and together we will protect her.
Unsure if my words would be enough, I slowly walked towards the door and as I did, I heard her sigh and say once more, “But I don’t like the dark.” Heartbroken and feeling helpless, I looked back and said, “I know sugars; but soon, when you least expect it, the sun will come and a new day will be here. It’s a promise. Until then, I am here to protect you. So close your eyes and get some rest.”
While turning out the light, I heard her say once more in a soft, quiet whisper, “Mommy? I still don’t like the dark.” Realizing I was unable to quiet her fears, I slowly walked out of her room and closed the door. I continued my nightly routine of picking up the toys, wiping down the kitchen counter, and turning out the lights before passing by her room once more and pressing my ear against the door. Hoping to hear the sounds of sleeping child, I instead heard her toss and turn before letting out yet another deep sigh. Feeling helpless, I closed my eyes, dropped my shoulder and leaned up against the door. She had only ten more hours until the sun would rise once again and she could play. Only ten more hours until she would feel safe again. It was only ten more hours; but to her, it felt like an eternity.
I walked away and down the hallway that night trying to figure out what was so terrifying about the dark. Maybe she had a bad experience? Perhaps she just felt alone? Or maybe it’s just a typical childlike fear? But as I sat on the edge of my bed, trying to come up with reasons and possible solutions, I realized we are all afraid of the dark.
Our “dark” just might look like something else.
And that “something,” whatever it might be, is the one thing that keeps us up at night. It causes us to whisper words of fear and worry; makes us uncomfortable and unable to relax. It causes us to toss and turn. And it makes our chin quiver.
You know what your “something” is don’t you?
But friend, I want you to listen carefully to my heart and let my words soak into your soul because I have faith to believe that it’s going to be okay. You are going to be okay. It won’t always be this hard. It won’t always feel this overwhelming, or painful, or stressful or even difficult. The moments of sadness and uncertainty won’t always be around. The struggles you find yourself in will not last forever. They won’t. They can’t.
So sweet friend, I don’t know what has brought you to my safe place with my heart written out for you in words, but I want you to have hope. Hope to believe that relief is on the way. Because there is one thing I know to be true and that is life has a way of always moving forward. Clocks have a way of continuing to tick. Calendars seem to always flip. And just as the night seems unbearably long, yet always ends in dawn; so will the troubles you find yourself in at this moment.
Therefore today, this afternoon, or later tonight, when fear takes over and your chin starts to quiver, and tears slowly begin to form in your eyes, and you find yourself quietly whispering, “I don’t like the dark;” I want you to know that your Heavenly Father is standing at the door of your heart calmly whispering back, “I know sugars, but soon, when you least expect it, the sun will come and a new day will be here. It’s a promise. Until then, I am here to protect you. So close your eyes and get some rest.”
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