Morning peers in the curtain and falls upon Noah’s cheeks. They are still baby-squish full despite his announcement that he is a big boy now. He smiles, then makes faces at me and his Sissy. The sun finds Chloe as she grins wide to show us the hole in her mouth. “It’s a straw-holder, Mommy,” she says as she slurps milk through the space that used to be her front tooth. The light is honey-lovely and dapples on chairs and bed head, highlighting the best parts of the morning.
I say the blessing and think: You are my Sunshine…
As the sun chases the shadows across the day, I peek at one. It covers the kids in the corner of the yard where they yell at each other, and then they hit. This pulls a shout from me and I feel needles erupt from my skin as if I’m a porcupine warning the darkness that crept into them. The shadow moves, ever so slow, but it moves on and my two are laughing again.
…still my sunshine…
Noah comes and gets me when he can’t sleep. I snuggle next to him in his big boy bed and he whispers, “I saw a shadow moving, Mommy.” I hug him close and remind him that Jesus sends his army of angels to watch over us at night. “The shadows are nothing compared to them.”
“Oh, yeah,” he says and slides into a good sleep.
That is Sonshine
I remember my own nightmare a while back where I was stuck at camp with all my fears. It was overwhelming terror, each cabin harboring a threat. The fear manifested itself into a figure dark as night. And then He walks in, my Sonshine. He walks to my right side and stands, the Lion of Judah in glowing warrior stance (The LORD watches over you– the LORD is your shade at your right hand…Psalm 121:5). I wake up, delivered.
The shade is not to be confused with shadow. Whether your shadows are tests, monsters, or just a dark season, nothing can extinguish the light of God.