Braving the Dark

A late meeting kept me out. I got home, went in to kiss the little guys, knowing they'd probably be asleep.

And they were. The room was mostly dark, lit only by the light on the sound machine that generated the necessary white noise as well as the light from the fish tank CD tower.

The bottom bunk held our 5-year-old. Why did I not recognize the PJ's? Then recognition dawned: the 5-year-old had been transformed into a clone trooper while I was out (the boys were both blessed with full Star Wars clone trooper outfits for Christmas). The trooper impersonation had continued through bedtime, so the uniform was the bedclothes of choice.

I smiled, and planted a kiss on the soft, warm, brown skin. Climbed up next to the top bunk to kiss our 6-year-old. He, too, had gotten lost in Star Wars land. His uniform shone in the darkness of the room.

The irony hit me: wrapped around my 6-year-old's arm was his precious Pooh bear. He is a brave, light-saber wielding warrior by day, but the darkness of night brings the reality of the unknown -- and the need for security.

I looked behind me at the closet. The 5-year-old needs the closet door shut, keeping the unknown that plagues his thoughts locked safely away until the morning light can shine again. The door was shut.

Heroes by day. Little guys by night. My prayer is that God will lead them to understand that there is nothing to fear when we know ourselves to be kept in His hand. Our God never sleeps, and the darkness is as light to Him. And He is to be trusted in every breath we take, even those taken in our slumber.

I smiled, kissed my clone troopers, thankful that they found common ground in their play and enjoyed each other, thankful that they will hear over and over that the LORD is always watching over them. God is good.