It was 2 AM. I had to use the bathroom, and we were dry camping—in our own yard.
Yeah, that’s a long story. It involved many delays in picking up our travel trailer and a Ford F-150 transmission blowing in the middle of trying to back the trailer into our yard—the day before we were to leave. Fun times.
So the younger kids and I camped overnight in the trailer until the watermelon seltzer I chugged before bed hit my bladder. Then into the woodsy yard I went, in the pitch dark, where foxes, deer, and the occasional bear or fisher cat roam. Needless to say, I wasn’t wanting to take my time getting there.
The back door was locked. I knocked, and the dogs started barking. Surely, my husband would hear me then.
Nope.
Then I banged on the door. More barking.
No footsteps.
Realizing the futility of that after about three minutes, I walked around to the garage door, put in the code, and assumed an unlocked inside door.
Nope.
More knocking and banging. No response.
Finally, I went around to the front door and rang the doorbell. Over and over again without stop.
No rescue.
I knocked and banged and called my husband’s cell phone.
Still nothing.
I finally called my son’s cell phone—the same son who inherited my penchant for not answering the phone.
And there it was—my son actually answered!
“Mom, is that you? Hold on. I’m coming.”
In the fifteen minutes outside brainstorming new ways to communicate my need to sleeping family members inside the house, fear had started to trickle in. It was dark, and in my mind, every noise was the local bear deciding that moment was the one to descend upon my lawn.
My imagination ran wild.
What if a criminal drives by right now to see me in my nightie? What if the police are on patrol and decide I’m breaking in? What if my neighbor is looking out his window at the scene I am making at 2 AM in my own yard?
Darkness makes everything seem impossible, insurmountable, even dangerous.
But is it? Is it really?
What is the truth about darkness?
1. There is a Light. God the Father provided it through His Son Jesus. Read the rest of this entry »
I was happily driving my daughter back from camp in Keene, NH. We “processed” the week, reminding the younger brother to not interrupt during this time, and by the time I pulled up to the traffic light at the end of the ramp to my exit, my mind was on unpacking, 
☕ Espressos of Faith ☕ 