All the Difference

When I was six years old, I was scared to go to bed at night. My room seemed too big and dark; even the night light cast eerie shadows over the walls. I didn’t want to be alone. My little brother was scared, too. We both wanted Daddy to stay with us. How could this new widower attend to the pleas of both of his children?

It was one of our little plastic chairs, but it worked. Daddy set it in the middle of the hallway between our rooms…and sat. And he waited for sleep to still the fears of his children.

I couldn’t see Daddy from my bed. But I knew he was there. And that made all the difference.

I’ve come to love the parallels of this simple experience. Just like Daddy, my heavenly Father loves me, too.  He knows my fears and worries…and He cares, even though the shadows don’t scare Him. His ears are attuned to my cries. Sometimes I can’t see my heavenly Father, but I know He’s there…and that makes all the difference.

Jessica Yoder