Tendrils of the Night

So here we are again.

Nighttime.

10-12 hours of relative darkness. Stars come out. Sun goes away. Crickets chirp, bats screech, owls call.

Somewhere, there's the faint sound of a lullaby.

New emotions surface now as well. Gone is the innocent mirth of sunshine and butterfly daydreams.

Now there is darkness, and darkness is strong.

Thus, many dark-tended emotions bubble up to the surface.

Fear.
Sorrow.
Longing.
Grief.
Pain.
Guilt.
Regret.
Anger.

But somewhere in the space between the moonlight and the dawn, there drifts a sort of peace, a kind of happiness.

It floats in through your window on the wings of the dusk.

Comfort.
Joy.
Gentle
Soothing
Calming
Sweet.

It is the tendrils of the night, reaching out to your fettered soul, releasing your burdens, setting you free.

The place you fall to your knees becomes the place you find the strength to rise again, and suddenly the darkness doesn't seem quite so imposing.

There is a light deep inside you, somewhere the night can never reach; a tiny, flickering flame, powerful beyond its own capability.

Indeed, it is not the power of the flame that keeps it lit-- it is the power of The One Who lights it.

He'll help you shine, and He'll shine for you.

And lo--

Dreaded darkness begone. 🍃