Monday, July 2, 2012
Through the Night
The call comes from the darkness. It's Zay. He's been in bed for an hour, but his voice comes just the same.
"I'm here, Zay. What's up?" I'm sitting in the family room, just a few feet away. But he's fearful. I can hear it. And he's my child. So I go.
"There's something scary. Under the door." There's a night lamp, a small circle of glow in the darkness, so I can see his eyes. They're big and round. He nods toward the closet.
I crouch low on the bottom bunk. Run my fingers through fine, blond hair. Press my lips against his head. "There's nothing there, Babe, remember? This house is filled with God's love."
"But I'm still scared," he says.
I open his closet. Shirts for three boys pressed in a row. Shoes for three, too. "Nothing," I say. "There's nothing here."
I'm beside Zay again. His small hand folds easy into mine. It's quiet. I can hear the breath of two other boys.
Finally he speaks. "Okay," he says. "But will you stay here? Will you watch me while I fall asleep?"
There's no question. He's my boy. And he's afraid. "I will," I say.
Zay curls like a comma. Closes his eyes. And soon he's sleeping. I can feel the beat of his breath, too.
I tiptoe out, but his words stay close. "Please stay here. Watch me while I fall asleep?" It's what we all want, really. Someone to be close. Someone to watch over. Someone to love us and hold us and protect us through our dark night.
I move down the stairs and toward my own room. But I smile. I'm so grateful for my Father.
And for His promise to never leave.
The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged. Deuteronomy 31:8