for those who walk in darkness

It shatters my slumber, the voice through the monitor.

“Gramma. Gramma!”

It’s still dark.

Sigh. Why can’t she pull her own blanket up or reach the pillow from the floor?

I scootch up high and swing legs over and around the cat. I palm the walls, slide heel-toe down narrow carpeted steps, careful not to repeat a fall but unwilling to dazzle myself with light.

I open her door. “What’s wrong?”

“My bunny’s making too much noise jumping around. She woke me up. I tried burying my head under the pillow like this, but it didn’t work.”

I sigh again. “Do you want me to move the cage out of your room?”

“No. It’s fine.”

I scowl at her. “So you woke me up simply to tell me your rabbit woke you up? Go back to sleep.”

She smiles sheepish. “Night, Gramma.”

I count fifteen steps up until feet touch cool wood, turn right, squeeze between bed and fan by the light of the clock. I reach out to feel for the footboard, but once again I bang left hip into its corner. I slip back under the sheet from the top. The husband on my right doesn’t move. The cat on my left doesn’t move. The cat at my feet doesn’t move.

It’s 3 a.m. And I’m wide awake now. So I move.

I scootch, swing, palm, and slide again, pad across the living room into the kitchen, dazzle myself with light.

Now what?

I could fire up the Mac and check out Facebook. I could fold the clothes in the dryer. I could read a book. I could wash the floors. I could pay bills.

I slip toes into black flip-flops and unlock the back door. I shake off the thought of a robber-rapist inside the garage or a rabid coyote around the corner and sit down on the bench, lean back against the redwood table. The moon’s tucked behind a cloud that trails golden rivulets. I see one single star, and I’m intrigued by the shapes of black trees against gray sky. I’ve walked into a charcoal drawing.

The air vibrates with night songs.

Because the darkness holds its own kind of music.

I walk the perimeter of the yard and talk with Him about fears and anxieties and about loved ones and situations. The clouds part and the moon glows bright, and I wonder if I ever wondered at it as a child.

How many wonder moments have I lost in my lifetime?

Back inside, all is still, and I turn on the Mac. I read the words of others who’ve found wonder, who’ve learned to lean into the night, who’ve found music in the dark.

I crack an egg, scoop flour, pour milk, and stir. I stack waffles golden on a china moon and watch the sun burst through the darkness.

I’m dazzled by the light and moved with wonder.

The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned. ~Isaiah 9:2 (NIV)

The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light. For those who lived in a land of deep shadows–light! Sunbursts of light! ~Isaiah 9:2 (MSG)

Tags darkness Light in the Darkness moon prayer wonder